Mel's Wedding
by Enno Vy
Summary: As thanks for her family's help during the rebellion, Mel invites Ara to her wedding. There Ara mingles with nobility and meets Lady Tamara and the Duke of Savona at last. A series of short stories about the wedding.
1. A Wedding Invitation: Mel's POV

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. Wish I did, though!

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Perhaps I should have written in advance to warn Ara of my impending visit, but truth be told, I just didn't think of it. Plans for the wedding were proceeding apace and once I had married Vidanric and was crowned queen of Remalna, I would be even less free than I was now – if such a thing were even possible. If I wished to pay a private, leisurely visit to the girl whose family had saved my life by hiding me from Debegri and his soldiers, I had better move soon.

Besides, surprise visits are always more fun, right? If I wrote ahead, Ara and her family would work themselves into such a frenzy of preparation that I'd be causing them a lot more extra work than I wished. Better just to drop in on the family unexpectedly, have a cup of tea and admire Ara's garden, invite them all to Remalna-city for the wedding, and then ride home again. Simple, quick, informal.

The idea popped into my mind one morning as I sorted mail before breakfast – and on an impulse I scrawled a quick note to Vidanric, called Mora to bring my riding gear, and was on my way out of Athanarel before anyone could insist that I bring an escort or other appurtenances corresponding to my exalted station – such as it was.

Though I didn't remember the way to Ara's farmhouse, having been borne there semiconscious on the back of her father's horse the last time, I did remember where I'd inadvertently stolen said horse. Ara had mentioned it during my convalescence – the Three Rings, run by Master Kepruid. Surely he could give me directions.

The morning was early enough that very few people were about the inn. Just as well, for those who were immediately dropped whatever they were doing to bow or curtsey deeply. Feeling a little foolish, I smiled as I dismounted and bade them pay me no mind.

"My lady!" Master Kepruid himself hurried out of the inn, sweeping an awkward bow. "Would you care to come in for refreshments? Forgive me, but if I had only known you were coming I would have prepared – " He gestured helplessly, indicating with the motion that the inn was unworthy of such an exalted personage as myself.

I gave him a reassuring smile and hastened to explain my errand. "Actually, Master Kepruid, I was hoping you could tell me where a certain family lives. They have a daughter named Ara, and I understand that her father often stays in your inn."

Understanding crossed his face swiftly. "Of course, my lady! Is this the Vestuk family you're looking for, who own the fine mare Drith?" His lips twitched as he valiantly fought back a grin.

I laughed, though my face had begun to turn red. A fine queen I would make, who had once been not only a failed revolutionary but also a common horse thief! "Yes, indeed, they own a fine mare named Drith." As I'd had occasion to find out for myself.

The other people in the inn yard had by now returned to their tasks, with surreptitious glances in our direction from time to time. Now a young man, about Ara's age, wound his way to Master Kepruid's side, bowing to me with a mischievous expression. From the resemblance, I guessed that this was the son, one of Ara's flirts.

"My lady, allow me to present my son and heir, Elun," Master Kepruid intoned. Then, in a less formal voice, he added, "He knows the way to the Vestuk farm as well as I do, and perhaps better – " with a mock-angry look at his son – "for he can show you the shortcuts and back ways."

Elun bowed again. "'Tis true, my lady."

_And you no doubt hope for a chance to see Ara again, _I thought, amused. "I'd be most grateful if you could show me the way," I replied, curtseying back.

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Elun Kepruid did indeed know numerous shortcuts on the way to the Vestuk farm. Very rarely did we ride on the main road; he led me onto one side lane after another. Though he was shy initially, he quickly gained confidence and was soon regaling me with tales of growing up in the city, so different from my childhood in the mountains. While I was tramping barefoot over the rocky trails, listening to the music of the Hill Folk, he was helping his father around the inn, running errands and the like, trying to catch a glimpse of the nobles who rode by.

"Not that any of them stayed at the Three Rings," he added. "Our patrons are more farmer folk, like Master Vestuk. The nobles either have residences in Athanarel or their own town homes."

He had seen the lords riding out to comb the countryside for me last year. "We guessed 'twas you who had taken the horse," he chortled, "but whyever would we tell _them_ what happened?"

Remembering Chovilun's well-stocked torture room, I remarked drily, "Debegri can be persuasive."

"Yes, but there were very few who liked the Baron, my lady! He was a cruel one, and no one wept a tear when he was killed." He sneaked a sideways look at me. "The inn's been getting better business ever since word got out that _you'd_ been there. Seems like folk appreciated how you kept your promise about there not being civil war. They want to see places where you were. The inn where you nicked a pie from the Baron – that's even more popular than the Three Rings! Pity it wasn't the Baron's horse you stole at our place!" He laughed happily. "Ara tells me their farm has been seeing more visitors of late, too. Look my lady – over there."

Following his gaze, I saw the farmhouse clearly, without a haze of exhaustion and fear, for the first time. It was large for a farmhouse and surrounded by fields; the Vestuks were evidently prosperous farmers. But of course, I reminded myself, I knew that already. From this angle I couldn't make out the garden, though in the distance I could see the mountains. My mountains. I sighed.

The sound of hoof beats brought a young boy to the door as we rode up past the chickenyard. Well I remembered falling face down in the mud among the chickens the last time I arrived! I blinked, realized I was staring back at a perplexed rooster, and hastily looked again at the boy who was now gaping at me.

"Luz!" I exclaimed, dismounting quickly. "It's good to see you again!"

He gasped. "My lady!" He bowed as elegantly as he knew how. "Mama!" he turned to call. "Lady Meliara and Elun are here!"

Pattering feet announced Ara's arrival. With a few roses in one hand and pruning shears in the other, she had evidently just run in from the garden. "'Tis you, my lady! Oh, I was just wondering how you were, wasn't I Luz, and I was looking at my moonflowers and remembering how you admired their color once – I told Emis and wasn't she jealous! But here – would you like some roses?" And she thrust the blossoms at me.

"Ara," her mother said warningly as she caught up with her daughter. "My lady." She turned to me and curtseyed. "It is good to see you well."

"Mistress Vestuk. It is wonderful to see you again." I sniffed at the flowers, red and pink and white. "You do have the loveliest roses, Ara."

Elun, who'd been quiet until then, grinned over at Ara. "And she knows it too."

She pouted at him as her brother exclaimed, "Doesn't she ever! Some of those visitors wanting to see our place asked to buy her flowers, and hasn't she been impossible since then!"

Mistress Vestuk, trying to restore some dignity to the proceedings, shepherded us all into her sitting room.

"You didn't see this room last time!" Ara chattered on brightly, ignoring both her mother and the boys. "See, I've brought in some of my moonflowers for the vases." And indeed she had. Two large vases of blue and purple moonflowers scented the room from side tables. A small bookcase held a few books and some knick-knacks, and a single moonflower in a delicate vase. "Do you like them?" Ara asked anxiously. "Look – I'm starting to get ones that grow completely lavender."

"It's the soil," I replied absently, bending to admire the arrangements. I'd read about the acidity of the soil affecting flower colors, back when I was planning the gardens at Tlanth. "Have you been adding something new?"

"Oooh, yes! I have! The last time the shipment of fertilizer came in I _told_ Papa it looked different – "

"Ara," said her mother wearily. "Don't chatter her ears off. Do fetch some refreshments for our guests."

With a grimace, Ara swept out, her skirts swishing around her from the speed of her spin. Elun gazed longingly after her. Luz met my eyes and grinned, and I knew we were thinking the exact same thing.

"Won't you have a seat, my lady?" Mistress Vestuk offered, gesturing at the carefully embroidered cushions scattered around the sitting room. She, too, had noticed Elun's expression.

I knelt on one and motioned for the others to sit as well when they hesitated. "I sent a letter last year once I returned to Tlanth," I said hesitantly. "I hope it arrived, for I did not know your name. I could only address it to Ara and hope that it would find its way to you."

Mistress Vestuk nodded. "Aye, it arrived. We were relieved to hear you were well." She seemed a little awkward, twisting her fingers together as she went on, "In truth, though we did not wish a civil war, we felt a little – we felt guilty that we did not aid you more."

I looked at her in surprise. "I do not see how you _could_ have given me more aid, Mistress. You saved my life, hiding me until I was well, giving me clean clothing and food for my journey home. I could not have asked for more."

From his cushion, Luz cheerily added, "We didn't tweet at all! But Mama did find ways to spread word that you'd promised no fighting here – figured that might make folk more inclined to help you."

Here came Ara with a copper tea tray. "And I didn't even tell Emis until it was all over! Wasn't she jealous when she found out!" Deftly lowering the tray onto a table, she poured me a cup of tea.

"Thank you," I said to her. Then to the others, "Thank you all. For everything you did. Or didn't do. You saved my life and helped us defeat Galdran."

"And now you're going to be queen," Ara breathed, her eyes wide.

That reminded me of my purpose in coming. Finishing my tea, I pulled an elaborate wedding invitation out of my pocket. It was on thick cream-colored silk paper that looked woven, with gilt edges and a bouquet of roses and starliss outlined in gold at the top. The Astiar and Renselaeus devices were embossed on either side. Though I'd been forced by the sheer number of invitations to hire scribes, I'd handwritten a fair number myself. In fact, I'd learned a flowing calligraphy script, originating in Renselaeus centuries ago, especially for the task. The invitation I now held out to Ara's mother was one that I'd written.

"I was hoping you could all come to the wedding and coronation," I said. Mistress Vestuk took the paper carefully, fingers barely touching the edges. For a heartbeat, no one spoke.

Then Ara bounced up to dance around the room. Luz leapt up with a whoop. "Can we go? Can we go, Mama?" they begged. "Please? We have to go!" Ara hovered over her mother's shoulder, lightly brushing her fingers over the embossing. Seeing that, I had to hide a grin – I'd had the same reaction the first time I saw embossed paper.

Then I noticed that Elun was keeping his face carefully composed and his eyes down, and I cursed myself for not thinking to bring an extra invitation for the Kepruids. Of course, I hadn't planned on having one of them escort me out to the farm…but that was no excuse. I should have been prepared. I should have thought this out more! Julen was so right about my impulsiveness. "Your family too," I told him, embarrassed by my thoughtlessness. "I'd love to have you at the celebrations."

At that, his face broke into a grin. "Thank you, my lady!"

Mistress Vestuk had been staring silently at the invitation, her expression unreadable. Glancing at her, I found that she seemed worried. Worried? Why would a wedding invitation worry anyone? And then it struck me – the Vestuks probably could not afford to leave their farm for so long. And the new wardrobe they would need to assemble for court would be prohibitively expensive. On the verge of offering to cover their expenses, I caught myself. Such a gesture would only smack of charity. _Thoughtless!_ I scolded myself. _Thoughtless! Now they'll feel obliged to come, whether they can afford to or not, because the future _queen_ invited them in person, and all I wanted to do was thank them._ Casting my mind about desperately for some way to release them from their perceived obligation, I tried my best to assure Mistress Vestuk that I would understand perfectly should other matters preclude a journey to Remalna-city. Ara and Luz had quieted and were gazing pleadingly at their mother, and Elun was looking between them and me in puzzlement. Great. Now I'd spoiled their happiness as well. I _really_ should have consulted Vidanric or Nee about this trip beforehand!

Propping the invitation carefully against one of the vases, Mistress Vestuk told me somberly, "We are honored, my lady. The farm, though…." She sighed. "I will speak to my husband."

"Of course. I understand completely, and to lighten the mood I quickly launched into a story about managing the (desperate) finances of Tlanth before the rebellion. Soon I had them laughing again.

"Thank you very much, my lady," Ara's mother said at the end. "Whether we can come or not, this is something to be treasured." She nodded at the invitation.

_Well!_ I thought as we moved backs towards the front door. _That's what I get for being too impulsive!_ Julen would be dismayed. If I'd but consulted Vidanric beforehand – but it was too late now. Still, I'd meant well! While we said our good-byes, Ara hovered about her mother and I knew she was just waiting for me to leave so she could pester her mother more thoroughly. It was in a more sober mood that I rode back to Remalna-city with Elun.

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No word came from the Vestuks for three days. Then, on the fourth morning, I found a letter from Ara on my table. It said:

_Dear Countess Meliara,_

_We thank you for the great honor of an invitation to your wedding._

That sounded a little too formal to be Ara's own diction. Her mother must have dictated the letter to her. I read on.

_Unfortunately, Mother, Father, and Luz present their deepest regrets at being unable to attend. I, however, most gratefully accept your invitation. I am, _

_Your humble servant,_

_Ara Vestuk_

And then there was a postscript:

_I can come! I can come! I can't believe it! Thank you, thank you!_


	2. Ara's Arrival: Tamara's POV

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of the characters. It's a sad life....

A/N: I always thought Tamara was an interesting character. We get Mel and Savona's side of the story in the books, but never hers.

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Russav and I had another tiff the night before the farmer girl arrived, and with good reason on my part. At the Orbanith ball, I came off the dance floor after a waltz with Vidanric and headed straight for the refreshments table. Having danced six dances in quick succession, I was terribly thirsty – though the Waste Spell could instantly remove any signs of sweat, it couldn't prevent the body from sweating in the first place. Copiously, too, in the crowded and hot ballroom. As I glided over to the long side table for a glass of ice water, I just happened to pass close by Russav. Well, fine. Not quite by accident. I hadn't danced with him since the opening waltz and wished to see what he was up to. Plus he was conversing with a gaggle of debutantes who hung on his every word. Silly girls, to inflate his ego so! _He's lucky I deflate it from time to time,_ I thought, wanting to roll my eyes but knowing that I couldn't in public. _If I didn't, he'd be unbearable and everyone would hate him._ Ah, my own altruism amazed me sometimes.

In my soft dance slippers, I walked quietly enough that he didn't notice as I cut towards him.

" – even lovelier than Lady Tamara?" I heard one of the debutantes ask him archly.

"Ah, my lady," he replied in a gallant tone, taking her hand. "Even Lady Tamara Chamadis's beauty dims in comparison to your magnificence." He pressed a kiss to the hand, the owner of which blushed and giggled nervously.

What! How dare he insult me behind my back? He, whose gift of rubies I was wearing in my hair at the moment! They had been a Name Day present from him, years ago when we'd first begun to court or flirt. Whatever it was we did. Sometimes I couldn't understand our tangled relationship, and I doubted he could either. But still – even if we were only flirting – even if we weren't serious about each other – how could he say something like that behind my back?

Luckily I'd been at court long enough to suppress the desire to rip his rubies out of my hair and fling them back at him. One by one. _Hard_. Instead, like a good courtier I continued on my way to the drinks table. Neither Savona nor the girl had noticed my passage.

"Hello, Tamara."

I looked from the contemplation of all those neat rows of crystal glasses to see Meliara standing on the other side of the table with her brother.

"Meliara." I curtseyed and quickly lifted a goblet of water.

She curtseyed back, Branaric bowing a second too late. He'd never caught on to court ways the way she had.

"It's a splendid ball, isn't it?" Meliara asked politely.

"Yes, splendid," I agreed with equal civility, sipping at the ice water and scanning the dance floor out of the corner of my eye. Savona was now dancing with the girl, a graceful, smooth polka that made me grip the goblet tighter. What was it that attracted me to that inveterate womanizer anyway?

Meliara followed my gaze and opened her mouth to speak, but Branaric beat her to it. "I say, the debutantes are very pretty, eh?"

"Yes." And if _I_ were queen, I'd banish all of them from court.

Perhaps reading my thoughts, Meliara nudged her brother and glanced at me. After giving her a bewildered look, which she answered with a frown, he bowed to me. "Lady Tamara, might I have the honor of this dance?"

"Of course." I swiftly divested myself of my glass. "The honor is all mine, Lord Branaric." Yes, dancing would take my mind off – other things and cheer me up. Nothing like showing off your beauty and grace to regain your self-confidence. Anyway, Savona and I played this game often. He'd come back to me. He always did.

As Branaric and I spun out onto the dance floor, though, I felt a slight annoyance at his sister – first for perceiving my discomfort and second for attempting to assuage it and third – to be perfectly honest with myself – third for winning Vidanric's heart and a crown when I couldn't. And briefly taking Savona from me. And being merciful when I tried to ruin her reputation. Really, how boring it was to associate with such angels!

So I thought while I whirled with Meliara's brother and smiled my sweetest smile, careful to look as if I were having the time of my life. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nee watching us with a slightly worried air. Good. I must be succeeding. Trishe was frowning. Huh. As if I'd try to seduce my cousin's husband! I did have _some_ morals – and besides, he wasn't even a good dancer.

As the polka ended, Branaric bowed over my hand with a dazzled expression that gratified me. Let Savona see how popular I was!

"Thank you for this dance, my lady."

I smiled back flirtatiously. "Thank _you_, Lord Branaric."

And then I was claimed by Deric for the next dance, followed by Lornav and Alcanad and Vidanric again.

"Your beauty doth teach the candles to burn bright," he observed with one of his faint smiles, paraphrasing a line from a play everyone at court had just seen.

I slanted a look at Savona. He was now dancing with Meliara. "You are too kind," I simpered, knowing that Vidanric wouldn't get any wrong ideas about my intent – he raised an eyebrow in his cousin's direction, knowing quite well that I was flirting with him for fun only. And as a reminder to Russav that I had my own power at court independent of his regard.

"Nee won't thank you if Bran sighs after you," Vidanric warned. He hid a smile. "Neither will I if my first act as king is to station guards around Chamadis House to protect you from jealous wives."

I widened my eyes in mock surprise. "You do me too much credit, my lord! How can a dance seduce a husband from his loving wife? Besides," I added ruefully, "if I didn't dance with any married men then two-thirds of the good dancers would be off limits."

"A tragedy indeed," Vidanric agreed. He brought the dance to a conclusion with a spin and bow. "Thank you."

I swept him my best curtsey. "Thank _you_."

And so went the rest of the ball. Plenty of dancing, even more flirting, and smiles for all the men there save Savona.

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The next morning dawned much too soon for my liking. As a bar of sunlight fell across my pillow to glare in my eyes, I groaned and turned over in an attempt to fall back asleep. No such luck.

"Kerael!" I snapped, knowing that she'd be hovering within earshot. "How many times do I have to tell you to make sure the drapes are shut _all the way_?"

My timid mouse of a maid appeared immediately, bobbing curtsies and stammering apologies.

"Never mind! Just bring my breakfast!"

Flopping back onto my pillows in the most undignified manner – no one was there to see – I glared up at the ceiling. When I was little, Mama had hired a famous painter to cover the walls of my suite with murals of landscapes. Railings and trellises painted in the foreground gave the illusion that the walls were balconies opening out onto the peaceful countryside. Each wall of my sleeping chamber depicted a different season – the tender greens of new leaves and soft pastels of delicate spring blossoms deepening into the deep blue hues of the summer sky and lazy cattle in verdant fields, which in turn blended into orange and red and gold leaves and V's of geese overhead, fleeing the blue- and lavender-tinged snowbanks, lit here and there with yellow light from farmhouse windows. The ceiling was one spectacular, glowing sunset. I loved my room. It had Mama's touch; I had changed nothing about it since the day Galdran Merindar arranged a "riding accident" for her.

Here came Kerael with my breakfast tray and morning paper. Certainly some of my fellow courtiers would have been surprised to hear that Tamara Chamadis cared for such serious reading, but I'd always held that knowledge was power. Besides, the fashion column generally reported on my apparel. There's nothing quite like seeing your tastes praised in print.

Once I'd finished my pastry and cup of chocolate, my maid returned to help me dress. Trishe had suffered a fall earlier in the week, so riding parties had temporarily ceased; instead I would be walking in the gardens with my friends.

"Not that dress." Kerael had offered me a deep blue gown that reminded me too much of the last time Russav and I strolled together along the more secluded lanes, just the two of us, arm in arm. I banished the memory. "The red one."

Carefully stepping into the cream-colored silk skirt edged in delicate lace from Colend, I fastened it tightly at the waist. Next came the deep red silk overdress, with more lace cascading from the sleeves and stylized cranes embroidered in cream along the hem. A hat trimmed with a deep red ribbon and a matching fan completed my outfit, and thus attired I set out to recapture Savona's interest – or at least make him very, very sorry he had ever withdrawn it.

Close by the fishpond I ran into Meliara and a young woman I had never seen before. The girl wore a linen gown, as favored by the more prosperous farmers – a new servant, perhaps? But they walked side by side. How odd.

Once we'd all curtseyed, Meliara satisfied my curiosity. "Lady Tamara, may I present Ara Vestuk? Her family saved my life last year."

Ah yes. Meliara had mentioned that once at a party. She'd fled Remalna-city on a stolen horse and been foolish enough to let the horse carry her to some random farmhouse.

"I am pleased to meet you, Miss Vestuk," I said, resolving to be nice to the girl for Meliara's sake.

The girl's eyes had widened at my name. "Lady Tamara!" She looked ready to faint. "You _really_ are as beautiful as they say you are!"

That was reassuring, if surprisingly blunt. "Why, thank you. You are too kind, Miss Vestuk."

The three of us began to stroll along a lane towards the rose garden.

"Ara has the loveliest garden," Meliara explained to me. "I thought she might like to see the roses here."

"Of course." I nodded in understanding. "Isn't 'Ara' derived from the ancient word for 'rose'?"

"Yes, my lady. My mother always calls me her rose."

Meliara was looking faintly relieved. Why would she need to be relieved? Did she really think I'd embarrass her by giving her guest the cut? Life! Sometimes people only thought the worst of me! Besides, the farmer girl was rather sweet, in an eager, admiring puppy-dog way.

We had reached Athanarel's rose gardens. Pausing under a blossom-laden trellis, I swept an arm around us, gesturing at the profusion of rosebushes. "Behold the rose garden of the Calahanras family." Swirling my fan into the Homage position briefly towards Meliara, I continued, "The last Calahanras queen had an especial liking for roses, so her husband the king created this for her."

Again, Meliara seemed surprised. "And the Merindars kept it once they'd taken the throne?"

"But of course." My fan moved smoothly into Irony, a gesture we'd all used frequently under Galdran's rule. "The first Merindar king planted his blood-soaked banner in the very center of the garden, where the Remalnan flag now flies." Unable to resist a dig at the queen-to-be, I added, "The last Calahanras ruler, while a decent man who loved the arts, was rather less successful at _ruling_ than he was at sponsoring artists. Hence the rise of the Merindar Dynasty." The Calahanras family was certainly good at losing crowns.

Meliara was silent.

Ara Vestuk, who'd kept respectfully but impatiently quiet, now begged, "Oh, but can we walk around and see the roses some more? They're so pretty! I never knew there were so many kinds in the world."

I smiled indulgently at her. "Of course, Miss Vestuk." Delicately snapping a pink rose from a nearby bush, I tucked it into her dark hair and admired the effect. "There."

Her face had lit up at my gesture. "Thank you, my lady!"

A quick glance at Meliara showed a wary expression on _her_ face. Nee had doubtless warned her to equate my each action with one of self-interest. Well, I couldn't see how a farmer girl could be of any use to me, but one never knows. At the very least, her open admiration for me was a salve for my poor ego, crushed so heartlessly by Savona the night before.

Once we'd finished our turn about the rose garden, I led the way back out towards the swan pond. On the way, who should we run into but Savona himself, accompanied by a few other lords? I gave him my chilliest curtsey, deliberately turning my attention to the others. If Ara had looked as if she might faint when she saw me, she looked about ready to drop dead now. Her cheeks had turned even pinker than the rose in her hair and she stammered out barely coherent greetings when Meliara introduced them. With a sly glance in my direction, he bowed over her hand with the greatest elegance possible and kissed it sensuously.

I gripped my fan until its edges cut into my palm. _No, no, no._

Still holding her hand, Savona gave the peasant girl a beseeching look. "I hope you will grace us with your presence for as a long as possible, my dear Miss Vestuk."

The girl was blushing even more furiously and had progressed to new heights of incoherence. "I – I mean – thank you, my lord, I mean, your Grace," she stuttered.

_How could _that _be at all attractive?_ I fumed silently. Savona was the biggest fool who ever lived. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was to find some very secluded path to turn onto, all alone, so I could kick at pebbles and shred leaves without anyone seeing. Curse Meliara for inviting a _serf_ to the royal _palace_, curse the peasant for not knowing her proper _place_, and curse Savona for encouraging such folly! Meliara had grown up in the middle of nowhere, but _he_ ought to know better!

I hid all these thoughts with a dazzling smile. "Ara, my dear, let us continue on our walk. There is a corner of the gardens that you simply _must_ see. Shall we, Meliara?" I didn't need to see Meliara to know that her expression would betray concern and distrust. My words had effectively precluded the lords from following us.

She recovered well. "Yes, I'd love to show her the moonflowers we have here," she said and smiled warmly at the lords in farewell.

As we continued on our way, I had already determined my course of action. I wouldn't sabotage Meliara's little guest – I owed Meliara that much – but I _would_ take Ara Vestuk under my wing and show the Duke of Savona just what a gracious lady I was and how much he'd wronged me with his philandering.


	3. The Dress: Ara's POV

Sorry sorry sorry for the very late update! School sort of happened, but the next chapter is up at last!

Disclaimer: Remalna and its inhabitants belong to Sherwood Smith. I merely dabble in her universe.

The Dress

My dress wasn't right. No matter how I tugged at it to fluff out the skirts, they quickly drooped back to hang limply around my legs. No matter how bad was the lighting in the Three Rings, where Papa had hired a room for me (and extracted a promise from Mistress Kepruid that she'd keep an eye on me), even I couldn't pretend that the fabric of my gown was anything but plain old muslin. No fine silks for the daughter of an ordinary farmer!

"It's not _right_ for court, Mama," I'd protested when the two of us had gone to Owen's General Store to select the fabric and purchase a pattern. "Emis says the ladies wear silk or velvet or brocade. I'll look ridiculous!"

Mama didn't even bother looking at me – we'd been having this same argument ever since she and Papa agreed to let me attend Lady Meliara's wedding. Instead, she browsed through the bolts of linen, muslin, and calico – fabrics and prints that I'd worn all my life. Couldn't she see that I needed something _special_ for an occasion like this?

I redoubled my efforts to convince her. "Please, Mama? When will I ever go to _Court_ again? Just this once?"

Still ignoring my anguish, Mama paused in front of a bolt of ivory muslin. "I think we can make a nice dress from this, don't you think, Ara?"

"_Muslin?!_" I was beyond appalled. "Mama, they'll laugh me out of Remalna-city."

At last she sighed. "Ara, silk is expensive. To buy enough for a ballgown – Ara, when would you ever wear it again? Silk isn't something you can wear around the house or even to the village dances."

I hated it when the question of money intruded on my fine dreams. "Linen, then?"

"_Ara_. You're lucky you're getting a new dress for this trip. Now stop sulking!"

Master Owens had wisely stayed on the other side of the store during our spat. Now, sensing the end of the fight and a profit to be made, he hurried over, smiling ingratiatingly. _The toady_, I thought resentfully, even though I usually liked him. When I was little and came in with Mama, he'd sit me up at the counter so I could greet all the customers and pretend I owned the store. He'd give me a piece of rock candy to suck too.

If only he could give me a bolt of silk.

"I see you've found my newest fabric!" he greeted us cheerfully. "Muslin imported from Sartor! Beautiful, isn't it?" As he spoke, he swiftly slid the bolt off the shelf and unwrapped the end. "See how fine the weaving is? Feel how soft the cloth is? It'll make a beautiful dress for our little Ara to wear to Court, and no doubt about it!" He winked at me. "It'll make me proud, knowing that you'll be wearing this to the royal wedding."

I essayed a weak smile.

"It _is_ beautiful material," Mama agreed as I hid my dismay. "Master Owens, how much is it per yard?"

"Three copper coins."

"Three coppers! That's so expensive!"

I turned and wandered off. I hated listening to Mama haggling with Master Owens, as if we were poor folk. I'd wager Lady Tamara Chamadis never had to bargain for anything. I'd wager Lady Tamara has coin enough to buy bolts and bolts of silk without even thinking about it. Sometimes life was really unfair.

By the time I ambled back, Master Owens was saying, "Fine! And I'll throw in a pattern at half price, but that's the lowest I can go!"

"Done." Mama looked smug as we walked home with a package of muslin and a pattern for a ball gown.

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So now I was stuck wearing a plain muslin dress that wasn't even fashionable. It had a simple bodice and full skirts that might have puffed out if Mama and I had been better seamstresses. Aunt Tanta had made my last nice dress – the one that we'd given to Lady Meliara to wear when she was on the run – but my aunt had died two years ago. The only redeeming feature of this dress was the embroidery Mama had done along the hem of the skirt and the edges of the sleeves. She'd found time to painstakingly stitch a pattern of pale pink roses and dusty blue swirls the color of my moonflowers.

And this was to be my ballgown! It was all very well for a village dance – but for a ball? No one would bother to dance with me! They'd be too busy laughing at me. And the Duke! What would he think? Oh, why had I even bothered coming? Sighing, I took off the dress and changed into a walking gown, pink cotton embroidered with moonflowers (once Mama found an embroidery pattern she liked, she tended to use it repeatedly – most of my clothing had moonflower decorations). Lady Tamara had sent a note requesting my company on a walk in the palace gardens.

She looked spectacular, of course, when I met her on the path near the fishpond. No one could ever outshine her.

"My dear!" she said. "Why the sad face?"

I hastily smiled. "Oh, 'tis nothing, my lady." I couldn't confide my fashion woes in the queen of fashion herself!

"Oh, but it can't be nothing, for my little Ara to look so sad."

It would be rude not to answer, wouldn't it? Feeling slightly disloyal to Mama, I explained about the dress and my fears of sticking out like a thornweed in a moonflower patch. "It's just not the thing for court, but I don't have anything that is." I couldn't bring myself to glance at her, in case she thought me a country bumpkin. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing a sneer on that lovely face.

Lady Tamara was silent for a long moment. Then she laughed lightly. I cringed a little, wishing I could just run away back home. Would the courtiers notice if I slipped out by the servants' gate?

"Is that all?" Lady Tamara chided me gently. "Silly Ara! Don't let a dress of all things bother you so much! Bring it to Chamadis House this afternoon, and we'll see what we can do to spruce it up."

"Really?!" Truly she must be the kindest lady ever – after Lady Meliara, of course. "I'd love that!"

As soon as we'd finished our walk – sadly without running into the Duke – I rushed up to my room at the Three Rings to pull out my diary.

_Dear Diary,_

_Lady Tamara is the kindest most wonderful person ever! She's going to make me look fashionable for the big ball!_

I could already see it – the grand ballroom would be lighted with crystal chandeliers and adorned with garlands of fragrant flowers and amongst all the women there I, Ara Vestuk, would shine brightest. Lords would stare as I danced by and ask one another, "Who is that beauty?" and the Duke of Savona would walk up to me and ask, "Will you dance with me?"

_I can't wait!_

Then I shoved my diary back into my trunk, grabbed the garment bag containing my dress, and dashed down the stairs, narrowly missing poor Elun.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "What's this? Are you leaving us for another inn?" he teased, nodding at the garment bag. "The Three Rings not fine enough for you now that you've met all the lords and ladies?" His face had a slightly worried look, but I barely took note of it as I grabbed his hand and danced us around the narrow hallway.

"Oh, Elun, 'tis wonderful! Lady Tamara says she'll fix up this old thing for me so I'll look nice for the ball! She's just the nicest person ever!"

My braids whipping around my face and my garment bag spinning around us, I twirled the two of us to the entryway of the inn, Elun laughing as giddily as I.

"And now, my lord Elun," I said in a mock-solemn voice, dropping him an unsteady curtsey, "I must take my leave of you."

Elun had put a hand on the wall to regain his balance. Now he bowed awkwardly to me. "I am desolate, my lady Ara. I will see you at dinner."

Then the two of us tried to sweep off in our separate directions with all the grandeur and arrogance of great nobles – but it was just too funny. I glanced back over my shoulder at him, he looked back at me, and we dissolved into helpless laughter again.

Afraid that dust from the streets would invade my garment bag and dirty my dress – one of the disadvantages of a pale gown – I took the quieter back streets for as much of the way to Athanarel as I could. All around me the little shops had been preparing for the wedding, streamers and bows of Remalnan green and gold adorning their window displays. I passed by one shopkeeper tying a jaunty golden bow on the streetlight post outside his store. The residential streets were also festooned with green and gold decorations – little Remalnan flags stuck in window flower boxes, wreaths of green leaves and yellow flowers hung on doors, and even ribbons tied to tree branches. Looking around me at all the preparations, I felt a surge of joy that I was a part of all this, that I was here representing a family that had enabled Lady Meliara to ascend the throne. Truly I was lucky!

Lady Tamara's maid Kerael was expecting me at Chamadis House. She led me into the sitting room, where Lady Tamara waited with an older woman. Hela, her name was, Lady Tamara's own seamstress. _She'd_ be looking at my gown!

Feeling a little self-conscious, I relinquished my garment bag to her and looked on anxiously as she examined Mama's and my handiwork. Some of my stitches hadn't been very even. Lady Tamara didn't join the examination. Instead, she called for a tray of desserts and a pot of tea and sat on a sofa, languidly munching a cookie.

Finally, Hela looked up from my dress. "The colors are very fine," she said, addressing herself to Lady Tamara. "If my lady wishes, I could enhance the dress by adding a sash and some lace – " she gestured quickly, demonstrating with her hands the changes she intended to make.

Lady Tamara nodded. "I trust your judgment." She sounded uninterested.

_Shouldn't you ask me?_ I thought in dismay. I had no doubt that Hela would do a beautiful job, but still. It was _my _dress! _No,_ I told myself firmly. _Don't be ungrateful. You're a guest here and Lady Tamara is doing you a huge favor._

Hela nodded. "Yes, my lady."

"Have it ready by tonight. You may leave it with Kerael," Lady Tamara commanded.

The seamstress curtseyed, took my dress, and left. I felt odd. Wouldn't I even get a chance to supervise her work? It _was _my dress, after all. But one didn't argue with Lady Tamara Chamadis. Emis had made that quite clear, in all the stories she'd told me.

The lady in question looked up at me from her cup of tea. "There now! You see?" she asked me gaily. "Wasn't that easy?"

Knowing what was expected of me, I thanked her politely. Would she ever ask me to sit down? My feet were beginning to hurt from the fine – but tight – slippers I had on. But no. Rising with one graceful motion, she led the way back to the foyer.

"Come by after dinner, and we can get you prepared for the ball." With that, she bid me farewell and her footman shut the door behind me.

Well, that was different from how she'd treated me in the gardens! There she'd been most attentive to me. This time she'd been distant – remote – as if fulfilling a necessary but less-than-exciting task. Feeling a little hurt, I wandered off on a stroll about Remalna-city. If I were lucky, Elun might be free to join me.

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When I returned to Chamadis House that evening, a maid I hadn't seen before showed me into a small room in the servants' wing and showed me the dress. It was – I gaped at it – it was utterly transformed! Hela's skillful hands had added cascading lace with rose patterns at the sleeves and dusty blue silk sashes that crisscrossed across the bodice. The sleeves were accented with pink silk roses and blue ribbon bows. Best of all, the skirts puffed out now! A quick peek under the muslin skirts showed layers and layers of fine tulle.

Gone were all my misgivings over how Lady Tamara had acted. Truly she was one of the nicest people I'd ever met!

The maid – who wouldn't talk much despite all my efforts to strike up a conversation with her – helped me change into my wonderful ballgown. She fixed my hair too, pinning a headdress of pink roses and blue ribbons securely in place. My head felt like it was going to tip backwards from the weight! No wonder so many court ladies looked down their noses at people. Their headdresses were just too heavy!

Once I was all ready for the ball, the maid led me into the sitting room to wait for Lady Tamara. Afraid of wrinkling the back of my gown, I stayed standing for _ages_, shifting my weight from foot to foot. When she appeared at last though, I gave a gasp of amazement. No wonder she'd taken so long to dress! She looked like one of those princesses in folksongs– her black, black tresses tumbling down her back in artfully-styled cascades, her dark blue silk gown embroidered with lilies of the valley and pearls and twinkling with tiny sequins sewn on the lace trim. And – oh! Wonder of wonders – ivory sashes, the same color as the lace at elbows, crisscrossed across the bodice of her gown to! Just like mine!

"My lady!" I cried, sinking into my best curtsey. "You look beautiful!"

She smiled, face all alight with pleasure. "And so do you, Ara. Let me have a better look at you." She studied me and nodded in satisfaction. "Just what I hoped for. How do you like the sashes?"

"I love them, my lady?" I answered with all my heart.

"Good." Her voice regained its courtierly drawl, but I could sense her excitement. "Then let us go set a new fashion."


End file.
